Nobody's Baby
by Halia
Summary: Vignette. Stansfield pauses for a moment as he looks over the body of Mathilda’s younger brother, and things come rushing back. Reviews much appreciated!


**Nobody's Baby**

**Rating**: R

**Summary**: Vignette. Stansfield pauses for a moment as he looks over the body of Mathilda's younger brother, and things come rushing back. Reviews much appreciated!

**A note**: I didn't know there was a Gary Oldman movie with this same name when I wrote this. lol Weirdly enough. And yes, I know Stansfield didn't kill the little boy, but uh...he did in this. lmao Anyway. I hope you enjoy!

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Stansfield allowed his hands to travel freely along the damp--occasionally bloodstained--walls of the apartment. It was hot in there; smelled like copper and piss, and there was the faint happy whiff of bubble bath still lingering around the bathroom. He laughed like a loon when he saw that woman in the tub, her eyes bulging out of her skull. Her tongue was poking out of her lips hugely, making her look like some kind of fish that realizes it's about to be chopped in half.

"_I'm nobody's baby_..." he half-sung absently, striking a match and poking a cigarette between his lips. "_I wonder why...each night and day, I pray the Lord up above_..."

He stepped over the teenage girl's body, carefully eyeing her slightly-protruding ass that had so graciously been covered by both spandex and a thong. He remembered the way she'd been running around the house, screaming her head off, her motherfucking workout tape blaring annoyingly in the background. _'Daddy, daddy!'_ _Gave me a fucking headache, bitch._

"_Please send me down...somebody to love..._" He finally got to the kid. That little boy he'd shot in the back of the head as he was running across the hall. Stansfield paused for a second and let his fingers part from the greasy hallway wall, listened. His men were either out in the hall, busy chattering with other cops or were just lounging around on the sofa in the living room, despite the presence of the asshole's corpse still slumped in the corner.

Stansfield leaned in and turned the body over slowly. The chalk outline had already been placed, so no one would yell incessantly at him with the "disturbing the evidence" bullshit. _Boolsheet_

"_But nobody wants me,_" he sang softly. The boy's eyes were open, staring, glazed over. His mouth was wide with shock. Stansfield could see Little Boy Blue had lost one of his bottom front teeth and smiled. He poked his finger through the child's dead, cold lips and pressed down on the empty gum. He liked the feeling of cold saliva brushing against his flesh; it was rather like touching a wet plastic bag. Empty, kind of gross, but he still enjoyed it. _No law says you can't, bubba._

"_I'm blue somehow..._" A hoarse laugh echoed in his belly and rippled the cigarette smoke pouring from his mouth. Kid was blue. He really was. All the blood had sank to the front part of his body, so his nose was all veiny and purple; his lips the color of a dirty swimming pool.

Stansfield could remember, vaguely, being a kid of the same age. He was a rather useless four-year-old, sitting in front of a television, watching The Brady Bunch and sipping Cherry Coke with a straw. He recalled popcorn kernels being scattered all around the floor and his mom would give him a smack every time he forgot to clean them. _"We'll get roaches!"_ she'd scream. _"I got you and your father around, don't need more roaches!"_

He slipped his hand behind the child's ear and stroked his hair. It was still exactly the same as it'd been while he was alive--that was one thing about hair that fascinated Stansfield; you die, your hair keeps growing, _it's unstoppable, I tell you!_--but there were bits of caked blood as far off as his sideburns. The bullet had gone clean through.

So Stansfield just sat there dumbly for a minute, staring at the dead kid. It took a few moments before he gently pushed his fingers over the child's eyes and brought the lids down, then took the cigarette from his mouth and tipped the ash onto the boy's overalls. With that he stood up and dusted his knees off. He heard his name being called, and he started down the hallway again, this time towards the front door. The tune still crept mercilessly out his mouth, hushed, like the winds at midnight in autumn.

_Won't someone hear my plea and take a chance with me..._

_because I'm nobody's baby _

_Now..._

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I hope you enjoyed! :) Feedback, as always, is enormously appreciated, so if you could review I'd be much obliged. Thanks!


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